


A Witchy World

by Fervidflowering



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-07 17:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16412516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fervidflowering/pseuds/Fervidflowering
Summary: Zoe doesn’t respond too quickly. Instead, her hands find another cigarette as the tv drones on in the background about some new talking head complaining about the witches in New Orleans. They’ve had the station turned to the news ever since Cordelia shook out their rug for all the world to look upon. It’s the United States. Not everyone’s willing to allow them their freedoms. Their list is growing.A drabble collection for drabbles from both during and after AHS: Coven.





	1. what isn’t real now for us

There were times when Queenie and Zoe sat in a room together, alone, and wondered about the world beyond this school. Who else out there was a witch? They’d been bustled into the roles of Council members, but aside from Cordelia, neither really knew any older witches. 

“Do you think Cordelia’s the oldest of us now?” Zoe sucks on a cigarette, burns it to the filter before snuffing it out in a plate piled with butts. A stampede of feet sounds off down the stairs. 

“With us two _barely_ trained witches as Council members? She’s gotta be, right? You _just_ turned 18.” Queenie bites into a granny smith apple as a scream quickly followed by laughter rips through the rooms above them. “How’s Kyle handling the new job?” 

Zoe doesn’t respond too quickly. Instead, her hands find another cigarette as the tv drones on in the background about some new talking head complaining about the witches in New Orleans. They’ve had the station turned to the news ever since Cordelia shook out their rug for all the world to look upon. It’s the United States. Not everyone’s willing to allow them their freedoms. Their list is growing. 

“Alright. I’m covering him with spells everyday though after that one girl. I didn’t think love magic was _real_.” 

“HAH! We’re witches, what _isn’t_ real now for us?” A gaggle of girls push the door open, laughter spilling in around them before they see the two Council members there already. With smiles and with straight faces, they all nod and back out. The door closes on their laughter. The tv’s still droning about someone starting witch trials in Georgia and what the authorities are trying to do to stop it. It both thrills her and unnerves her to be treated with deference by the other members of their coven. She’s not always older than the witches who come here seeking safe harbor. Neither of them are always older. But they went through the Seven Wonders and that counts for something in this. 

Kyle knocks on a different door and doesn’t wait for a response. As he slips through the door and shuts it behind him, Zoe snubs out her half smoked cigarette and grins at him. Queenie smiles and laughs at the two of them as they fall down on the couch together, arms around each other with smiles of their own. 

“We were just talking about you, Kyle. How’re the girls treating you? Killed anyone yet?” She watches him push his face into Zoe’s hair and shoulders from her own patterned lounge. It’s an odd thing for her to think about the fact that all three of them have killed people. Murderess. That’s what she’s become. And a teacher. And a Council member. 

Queenie turns her eyes to the television as she waits for Kyle’s response.


	2. golden yellow paint

“Where do your powers come from?” He raises her hand off of the bed and into the air above the bed. In the honey-thick sunlight, the webs between their fingers glow translucent. She wriggles on the bed as Kyle presses his lips to the back of her hand, curls onto her side to watch him pull away and lie back on the pillow. His nose shines red with the sunlight shining up it. Zoe presses a kiss into Kyle’s shoulder. 

“From myself,” she says into his button-up. There’s a dark wine stain where her lips had been when she pulls back an inch. “All power we draw is from our own natural abilities. Or from rituals we perform. Or plants and making sure to mix it together correctly. But the spells come from ourselves.” She presses another kiss into his shoulder before spelling the lip print away. “Why?” 

Kyle drops her hand and turns onto his side to face her. His ear burns red now with the golden honey light seeping through the window. It’s like that one spot of him has been dipped in glowing, rose paint, highlighted by the softest golden yellow paint anyone could find. She lifts her right hand to brush her fingers over his ear. 

“Cordelia’s given everyone an essay asking them about it. I think it’s just a question.” The room’s warm and quiet, just like the rest of the house. “That happens to be running through everyone’s mind.” He draws in a breath of molasses-thick air. She watches his mouth. “And I’m just getting the homework without even going to the class.” It quirks up at the corners, those pink lips of his. 

“Mmm, she’s really proud of that class.” 

A door slams somewhere downstairs. Sharp and loud, it almost breaks the sweet and slow haze in their bedroom. His smile shows his teeth. Something zips through her eyes as she watches him in shine of the setting sun. Voices of the house’s inhabitants swim below. Zoe closes her eyes, lets herself drift off, and winds her arm around Kyle.


End file.
